What he will do next
by MTraverAndujar
Summary: I don't need a ring. But I want you to have one.


_**Disclaimer: if Ron Moore had not given me Laura and Bill my life would be different, and worse, and less meaningful.**_

 _ **This story is for Tino, who passed away two days ago. He was my father's soul brother, my mentor, our friend. A writer, a poet who taught me how to do better what I love the most. He once gave me this piece of advice: 'Never be ashamed to write sensitive, romantic stuff: love is what this world needs most'. May the Lords of Kobol take care of you, Tino. This story about love is for you.**_

He refuses to keep reading.

 _A detective_ , she has just mentioned as she tried to remember the exact point where they had left the story. And now she is clearly expecting him to continue their read.

Just like that.

Maybe she needs to be distracted from her current situation, from her unforgiving fate. Maybe she is just pretending to care. Or maybe she is making an effort to lighten a mood that has turned too thick and heavy after their recent conversation. However, he cannot move so quickly from discussing her (their) cabin, New Caprica, and Galactica's demise to the adventures of a fictional detective he suddenly realizes he could not care less about. He just can't. Especially, not after hearing her confess she has found home with him, and after finding out she believes he loves his ship more than he loves her.

She is smiling at him easily, even playfully; she is expecting him to resume the chapter. He will not have it. Instead, he casts a stern look in her direction. _Passive- aggressive_ , she would have called it. Realization dawns on him and almost makes him smile. Maybe he _does_ do that, indeed.

He closes the book with a thud. His hands rest on the cover as he reflects, glance down.

"What's wrong, Bill?"

Laura's voice is gentle, intimate. He looks up. She is staring at him with a small frown, her head cocked to the side; her expression unguarded and slightly worried.

It is so easy for him to tell she is trying to read him. She has just admitted to loving him more than she has loved in her entire life, while she willingly accepts that, for him, the ship comes first. The military is not just a job: it runs through your bloodstream. Even as sick as she is, she can accept that. This is who he is, so she takes it. At this point he does not need any proof of her love, yet he wonders what better proof of love she could have offered.

She is the one stuck in sickbay, tied to IV lines and beeping monitors, and she is genuinely concerned about him. She purses her lips; her eyes shed light from under the hemline of her scarf. This version of Laura Roslin which had yet to be revealed to him only a few months earlier… It was not until she finally unlocked her soul aboard that basestar that he got fully acquainted with the woman who glows in front of him (baldness, tubes and all) right now. The woman who wears her heart on her sleeve; the one who loves him deeply and fully and without any regrets and does not even care to hide it; the one that lets her feelings nurture both of their souls.

It makes him feel like wrapping her in a tight embrace and never let go. And the Lords of Kobol know he would, if a much more brilliant idea would not have crossed his mind this very second.

Bill grunts and stretches his back before locking eyes with her.

She will not need to guess. He is going to make it crystal clear for her.

"Give me your hand, Laura."

She hesitates, stays put for a beat trying to guess his intentions before finally reaching out, the questioning look still painted across her traits. He takes that delicate hand, pulls his wedding ring off his finger and slides it on hers solemnly as he speaks.

"I don't know if you have ever wondered why I still wore it. Love was no longer the reason. Not even before meeting you, especially not after that. But now it is."

She looks up, baffled.

"Laura, I don't want you to hold any doubts as to whom my heart belongs to."

He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it right where the ring rests. Then he draws back a little and, still not releasing her hand, studies it attentively.

"It looks better on you." He adds as an afterthought.

She shakes her head; her face contracts.

"Bill, you didn't need… I know… I already feel… Gods."

She rolls her eyes up in frustration, cursing the words that have deserted her. Unable to hold back the tears, she covers her eyes with her free hand and bows her head. Her shoulders shake and he can hear a sob she fails to muffle. Bill knows Laura's display of emotion is happening very much despite herself. After a few seconds, she lets her hand fall to her lap in defeat, revealing her tear- stained face as if nothing mattered anymore. She still does not seem ready to meet his gaze, though. Her watery eyes remain fixed on her own hand which now rests on her lap. The golden band sends sparkles as her thumb makes it spin slowly around her middle finger.

"Laura, this is just… this is just about showing you my feelings. This is my truth but it's not meant to make you feel upset or distressed. If it's too much, just say so. I'll take it back. All is fine."

He motions to pull the ring off her finger but she sharply withdraws her hand from his grasp.

"Not so fast, Admiral. You have given it to me already."

There is a note of mirth and plenty of resolve in her voice, mingled with the traces of the tears she has already shed and those still stuck in her throat. She might be a little overwhelmed by his bold move but she is clearly not displeased. She seemed befuddled a moment ago but she has literally jumped at his attempt to take it back.

Bill grins.

The ring sits loosely on her finger, far too wide for her slim, sickness- stricken flesh. She contemplates it in awe, as if it were something totally unexpected, entirely new; as if she had to be reacquainted with her very own hand which now carries such a treasure; with her very own life which she never thought would still have any room left for something like this.

"You know." She speaks softly after a few long seconds, her glance still fixed on the plain jewel, her fingers fiddling with it absentmindedly. "This means everything to me. And at the same time, it means absolutely nothing. If that makes sense."

Bill is not quite sure it does but he nods nonetheless.

"Nothing can add up to what I already feel, Bill. Nothing can make my love for you stronger or more meaningful. And no ring can show me yours better than the way you take care of me."

Bill nods again, now completely sure he understands. A grateful smile spreads on his lips. He shrugs.

"I know. I just… It is what it is."

"Hmm."

He knows it is an affirmation.

Finally, she pulls the golden band off her finger almost reluctantly. After what seems to be one last moment of hesitation, she hands it over to him, palm open upwards. He cannot help himself: a shadow crosses his features.

"You keep it." She gently insists. "I don't want it to end up lost to you when I'm gone."

She seeks his agreement in his gaze. He knows full well she will not find it. He can stay silent but he cannot quite lie, least of all to her.

"You know". She picks up after a moment. "I want to make sure you have something to remember me by. Just in case you planned to forget me."

It is a mild joke, a weak attempt to paint a smile on his expression but, if anything, Bill's frown deepens. He cannot help it. His voice drops three octaves and is thick with hurt as he replies.

"I don't need any frakking ring to remember you, Laura. I will live for and with you every day of my life. I will always love you."

She nods and rewards him with a smile, her eyes teary once again.

"That was exactly my point a moment ago."

Bill silently refuses to reach out and accept the ring she is still offering him. Doing it feels like getting used to the idea of losing her. He has no intention to come to terms with that. Ever. Besides, if he takes it, maybe she will just vanish in front of his eyes. He knows it is a fool's thought but she seems so fragile that maybe without the soft weight of that ring, without the invisible but everlasting bond it creates between them, she would just… have no tie to life or to him anymore.

He has left his now bare hand resting on the mattress as a forgotten, meaningless property. Laura takes it gently, a wistful smile gracing her lips. She cocks her head and arches her brows theatrically to highlight her words as she lifts Bill's hand and, intently, slides the ring back on his finger. The tone she produces is ceremonious, something between teacher-like and presidential, full of flagrantly faked regret.

"And then again, since we only have one ring, I now see myself forced to do this with the very same ring you have just given me. I can't keep it. How nice. Hmm."

This, he cannot refuse. In an eye-blink he understands: Laura has sensed that his reluctance would not waver and she has changed tactics. He was having a hard time accepting his ring back from her if the reason she argued for him to keep it was her own impending death. He will not give a frak about any godsdamned ring once she is gone. If she slides it on his finger like this, however… She has found the most effective way to make it not just bearable but desirable to him.

Once she is done she lifts his hand to her lips, kisses it and lingers, closing her eyes at the contact, rubbing her own cheek against his rough skin. He turns his palm up after a few seconds to stroke her jaw with his thumb. Her skin still holds some wetness from her earlier tears. She leans into his touch and opens her eyes slowly. Their glances lock, both of them watery, both of them alight from the inside, both of them accompanied by splendid, irrepressible smiles.

He has given her the ring, and she gives it back to him now. The circle is completed.

"Okay." He whispers only.

Laura's eyes shine even brighter at his words. She lets out a sigh.

"So, it's done. Do you think we should inform the press and the Quorum about what the Admiral and President of the fleet just did?"

Bill chuckles.

"They would certainly have a field day with us. Which makes me inclined to say that no, we shouldn't."

Laura's giggle gives him pause. Actually, he feels playful, too. Judging by her expression, she can read his joy, and she shares every tiny fraction of it. It makes the whole situation even more delightful. Absolutely perfect.

"Laura Adama. I like the ring there is to it. But I guess you will always be Laura- frakking- Roslin no matter what."

Laura laughs heartily until a coughing fit takes over her. She rolls on one side and doubles over, pressing her chest and abdomen tight with both of her hands. Bill jumps forward, winds his arms around her torso and lifts her from the mattress. His arms hold her up as he rubs her back in soothing circles. Seeing her struggling for air sends a dagger of pain straight to his heart. He pushes it away with all his might: he needs to be there for her.

"Easy. It's okay. I'm here."

Eventually, Laura relaxes, suffocation gradually subsiding. The dry, chemical- smelling air of sickbay finally enters her lungs again. Bill sets her back on the mattress, hands her a glass of water and helps her take a sip. Then he sets the glass on the bedside table, leans forward and takes both of her hands in his. As his thumbs stroke her paper- like skin, he watches her face and waits. After a few seconds, she clears her throat and her eyes crack open. She blinks, like rediscovering her surroundings again. Immediately after, her pupils find his and twinkle.

"I will always be Laura- frakking- Roslin." She agrees in a choked whisper.

And here he was thinking she would not be able to pick up on his previous words. He smiles inwardly. Then outwardly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"But I guess what I really am now is _your_ Laura- frakking- Roslin."

A warm current spreads in his gut. They exchange smiles. As he watches her and their glances remain locked, he sees her expression shift slowly until she is looking at him in earnest. Her words come out raspy but unmistakable.

"I'll always be with you, Bill. Every step of the way. If there is an afterlife there will be no force able to keep me away from you. I'll airlock the Gods one by one if they try to stop me."

Bill feels the tide rise behind his lids. He struggles with himself to keep smiling even as a lone tear rolls down his cheek. Like highlighting her own words, Laura reaches out, takes his hand and presses it affectionately. In unison, both of their glances drop down to their hands linked and the ring (once his, now theirs) yet again. It sits quietly right there on his middle finger, oblivious to the new meaning it has just been loaded with, of the passing back and forth that has just taken place, of the promises it now holds. Of the everlasting bond it symbolizes.

Bill leans forward. Sliding his fingers on the nape of her neck, he brings her head towards him and kisses her forehead.

"Don't let your guard down, Laura." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing her skin. "Maybe I'll find a way to slide it back on your finger someday without you noticing it."

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Through the slit between her barely parted lids, Laura watches the wildlife and smiles quietly. The shaking and roaring of the raptor's engines rock her, lull her into a peace she is pretty sure she never felt before. It is comforting.

"So much… life" she gently chokes out, and the strain to say those words aloud does not steal the content expression from her features.

Bill's words are warm and soothing, in both their tone and their meaning, and she lets herself believe in everything he says. Her mission is completed: she is not the dying leader anymore (dying more than ever, the leader left behind as an empty shell, a discarded skin) so she can allow herself to dream, to play, to imagine whatever she wants. As her gaze caresses the feathers of those pink birds whose forms she can barely make out now, her mind gets carried away by Bill's admiration for their new homeland, by his promise of a shared cabin, and a garden, and a lake.

A future. One meant for them only.

Laura feels a gentle pull tugging at her gut, like the ebb and flow of life sharply withdrawing from all the corners of her body. It starts like a faint echo but it becomes strong. She does not remember having closed her eyes but she can no longer see the birds, or the lake, or the vast ocean of soft hills and green plains. She tries to draw one more breath. Just another breath means one more second with him. She tries to focus only on the next intake of air.

It does not come.

It does not come and, after an instant, she understands and stops struggling.

This is it.

She wants to put her hand over Bill's to warn him, to pass him a silent goodbye. _Thank you. I love you. More than anything. I'll wait for you. See you on the other side._

Her eyes drift shut. Her hand lands soundlessly next to her thigh, letting go of the square blanket she was holding; the one Bill had lovingly wrapped her in.

It doesn't matter. All she wanted to convey, he knows already.

Right before shutting down, her mind forms one last image: a sparkling, plain, golden ring.

She might no longer be here when it happens but she knows what he will do next.

A peaceful smile spreads across her lips.

Silently, Laura drifts away.

 **Thank you for reading! I'm sorry if this makes you cry. Not sure what got into me...**


End file.
